


A Shifting Frontier of Water and Sand

by Yeetmeaway



Category: Black Widow (Movie 2020), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, MerMay, MerMay2020, Mild Historical Fiction, Mild Implied Abuse, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23618620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeetmeaway/pseuds/Yeetmeaway
Summary: Natasha's life is as tumultuous as the sea. She is bound to her family, their expectations, her place in the world. But the day the ships wrecked ashore leads to a meeting that changes her world forever. She is neither expected, nor required to express what she feels, but she cannot help but long for that sense of freedom. She needs only the courage to reach out and take it.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 34
Kudos: 129





	1. The Maid on the Shore

The day the ships wrecked off the coastline of Natasha’s little town marked a great change in her life. A fierce storm blew in the night before, tossing the ships that were trying to return to harbour, and dashed them into the coastline. The ships smashed into the shoals and hidden rocks below, sending cargo and crew into the waiting chill of the dark, black sea. Rain lashed in sheets, the alarm was raised, and men scrambled with lanterns and torches, running to the shore to watch the chaos unfold between flashes of lightning, helpless to watch as the ships went down and the wreckage began to find its way to the beach.

In the morning the rain had let up, the sun breaking through the roiling clouds above like a shining promise. But the town was in chaos. Folk scrambled, setting up beds for any injured men recovered, meals were cooked for those sailing out to battle the tumultuous sea to pull survivors and bodies from the water. Fragments of the ships and cargo washed ashore like pieces of a puzzle, littering the beach. Some folk scavenged, taking their pick of supplies, others searched the beaches for the men who were aboard the ships— living or dead. The whole town was out, it seemed. That included Natasha and her tutor, who watched the beach from the bluffs above with the other fine ladies who were in town to socialize and shop.

The sudden death of a distant relative and successful speculation ventures meant Natasha’s father was now new money. Natasha was just seventeen when her life changed forever. At first, she was elated— she loved her family and it finally felt like their fortunes were changing for the better. But money brought out something ugly in her father she had never seen. He began to weasel and claw his way into better connections, using acquaintances and people like disposable items to grasp the next rung of the social ladder. Their newfound wealth meant her mother fancied herself a fine lady now and made it her personal mission to purchase whatever gaudy furniture and fashion was all the rage in the larger cities. But Natasha loved her family and did her best to adjust to these changes. It was for the best, she was assured. It was for the benefit of them all. But the changes kept coming— She was sent to a private finishing school to correct her unbecoming behaviours and transform her into an elegant lady. In her lessons she learned to bury her emotion, to smile politely, to nod and curtsy and not speak unless spoken to. She was bound and constricted in fine things, clothing and jewelry and books and furniture. It was no longer acceptable that she ran in lower-class circles, that wasn’t her place anymore. Natasha could bear all this for her family’s sake. It was for the best, after all. But they chipped away at her, piece after piece until she hardly recognized herself anymore. She made her debut in society in her twentieth year to much success and adoration, but she was empty.

The ladies gasped and applauded when the men on the beach pulled a survivor from the shore and loaded him on a stretcher, his arm mangled and bleeding. They waved their handkerchiefs at the sailor as he passed, staring blankly at the roiling sky overhead. But Natasha was more intensely occupied— she was no lady, not really, and her smile would not help to alleviate this disaster. She searched the shoreline for survivors, prepared to help.

A sharp, digging jab into her shoulder blades made Natasha stiffen and her tutor leaned in with a false little smile, her dark eyes glittering with displeasure.

“Don’t slouch, Natasha,” she said under her breath.

Natasha returned her smile with one of her own and rolled her shoulders back. Her tutor, a sharp, humourless shrew of a woman, was determined to see her become a fine, eligible lady. She was out in society, but her humble status as the daughter of a former shopkeeper still lingered and her father saw fit to hire Ms. Vostokova to see to it that she was properly educated and refined despite her age. Secretly Natasha called her the Iron Maiden for her vice-like grip and the way she always dug into her back and arms. It was hard not to resent her for her methods.

A cry of alarm sounded from the crowd and her tutor looked away to the sound of the commotion. The smith’s wife, a woman Natasha had known well, wailed and ran down to the surf when she recognized her son, drowned and white as the sails he was tangled in. Her grief-stricken howls carried over the breeze and Natasha returned her gaze to the shoreline as she moved away from the crowd, leaving her tutor behind. Her hands curled into tight fists as the woman’s screams settled over her like a terrible burden. How useless they all were, gawking and gossiping and looking like ornaments on the cliffs above. She should be doing more, she should be down there with the common folk helping rescue the sons and husbands lost to the sea. But proper ladies didn’t do that sort of thing. Instead she scanned the shoreline further down the beach, and noted that none of the rescuers had made it down that far. The wreckage littered the sand and she wandered away from the crowd to search from the bluff above, looking for survivors.

On the beach below she spotted something that made her blood run cold— it was a wonder she even saw it, but among the tangled rigging and debris, she spied a man lying unconscious in the surf. She shot a glance back at the fine ladies, the men below, her tutor. Everyone’s attention was elsewhere, nobody gave notice to the man, trapped and alone. She thought to raise the alarm, to shout for them to come and look, but she should not speak unless spoken to. Natasha turned away, running toward the man without thinking. He was surely dead, and the rescuers would find him eventually, but she hated not knowing. If he was alive, she could try to save him— if he was dead, she could try to identify him at least. She knew most of the working families in the town before she moved away with her parents to the small estate in the countryside and she was forbidden from seeing people who were now deemed beneath her. But these were her neighbours, these were the people she grew up with. Natasha found her way to the steep path leading down to the water and scrambled down the bank, skidding through the sand and nearly tumbling onto the beach as she ran headlong for the sailor in the surf. Her shoes and skirts soaked through as she splashed into the rushing waves and she fell to her knees at his side, tugging away the sails and rigging with a desperate frenzy until he was freed.

Natasha’s heart stopped, unable to fathom what she looked at.

From the waist up he was a man— strong and lithe. His skin had an iridescent quality to it, like the inside of a seashell. Scales marked his shoulders and forearms like freckles, shimmering black. His face was so handsome; long dark lashes, full lips, high cheekbones and the same black scales on his cheeks and temples. He was so like a man, but the skin of his stomach and hips was grey where it blended and gave way to his tail… It was long, smooth and muscled like an eel’s, and black. It shimmered and reflected blue and green under its surface where the light hit it. A willowy fin spiked its end, grey and translucent. Her hands hovered over the strangely textured skin of what should be his leg, possessed by the urge to touch it. It looked powerful— like he could coil it around her waist and drag her into the watery depths never to be seen again. Natasha flicked her gaze to the creature’s unconscious face and brushed her windswept hair from her cheeks. She paused before she hesitantly traced her fingers down its surface. It was smooth and slimy like a fish and she recoiled.

She shot a glance at the creature again, but he was unmoving, his body drifting with the waves rushing in. He didn’t appear to be breathing. Natasha swallowed hard, afraid to touch him again and unsure of what else to do. He was unquestionably the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen and it pained her to think he was dead…

Distantly, she heard her tutor call for her, her name carried faintly on the breeze and her eyes shot up to scan the shoreline. Her tutor wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but Natasha feared that she might find her with this creature. What would she say then? What would she do? Her discovery was so unbelievable, so extraordinary that she wasn’t sure she wanted anyone else to see it.

When she turned back to the creature, his eyes were open, watching her with an air of amazement. Natasha jumped— she had been so sure he was dead that the evidence otherwise shocked her. He lay in the surf, watching her curiously. His eyes were an unnatural brilliant blue, bright as the sky on a cloudless day, his lips were full and quirked into a tiny half smile. Natasha was breathless, watching him in shock. His tail moved, shimmering and powerful, its end flicking and tapping the sand in amusement as the water rushed in, foaming around her and soaking her dress further. Her skirts were soaked up to her waist and her sleeves were wet to her shoulders, and when the wind picked up, she shivered. She didn’t know what to do, what to say and just sat staring at the creature before her. Distantly, she heard her name called again and she shot a look over her shoulder.

She turned back to her creature to find that he sat up now, his hair blonde and wet and glistening in the sun. It suddenly dawned on her now that he was half naked and she’d rarely seen such a sight in person. Speechless, Natasha flushed and didn’t know where to look and the creature tilted his head curiously as if he’d never seen such a response before. Her name drifted to her ears, pulling her away. She knew she should go before anyone else discovered him. She should return to the banks above and forget this whole thing as a strange dream. Maybe that’s all this was. Natasha twisted, turning to leave but stopped when his tail flicked up, coiling around her waist to grip her tightly. Natasha gasped, fear cutting through her amazement. Her hands fluttered across the scaly, cold surface like a reflex as he twisted her around to face him. He was much closer, leaning in to study her as his hand came up to touch her, thumb tracing her cheek with interest. His fingers were long and clawed, the same translucent grey skin of his tail fin webbed between his fingers.

“Natasha” he said, repeating the word she had responded to.

His voice was like the wind off the ocean. He stretched the vowels and hushing constants too long and her name sounded foreign on his lips. He said it like the rush of waves crashing on the beach, like a breath— Na-tashh-aahh. She blinked, her hair whipping into her eyes and across her cheeks, goosebumps rippling across her skin. That seemed to interest him too and his fin flicked up to snake around her leg as if fascinated that it wasn’t a tail.

"What are you?" She whispered, mesmerized.

He cocked his head to the side, long fingers touching her hair, briefly. He didn't seem to understand her. Why would he? He was an entirely different species from her. He made a strange sound akin to laughter and touched her neck as if searching for more things that were strange and different and set her apart. She had no gills, for one, and his light touch on her neck sent a shiver through her.

“What… are you?” he repeated, sending a thrill through her. His speech was stilted, this tongue catching on his teeth as he struggled to mimic the noises she made. He gave her an experimental squeeze with his tail as if prompting her to speak again and he leaned in, his skin shimmering in the surf. “What are… you Natasha?”

He was so unbearably close, eyes glittering intelligently. She couldn’t help it, it was so strange and unbelievable— she just laughed. Loudly, brightly, as freely as she dared. The waves crashed in, swallowing the sound up and taking it back into the sea like a confidant.  
She hardly knew herself, or what this feeling was. Her heart beat fast in her chest, she was weightless, breathless, invincible. Emboldened by this feeling, she reached out and touched the black scales on his forearms, tracing them slowly up to his shoulder. He was strong, surprisingly warm under her hand.

“I asked you first,” she said, unable to suppress her broad smile.

The creature watched her trace the scales of his arm, his expression soft. She skimmed up his neck and over the ridges there, thumb tracing what must be his gills. How incredibly fascinating. He looked at her again so strangely, so affectionately and the colour in her cheeks deepened. She’d never been looked at like that before...

His answer was a strange sound. It was a hiss of syllables, sharp consonant sounds, pleasant vowels. It was good-natured, strong. She had no idea what it meant. Perplexed, Natasha smiled and did her best to repeat the sound and she laughed when she couldn’t get past the first syllable. Her creature mimicked her laughter, changing the way he sounded to be more like her— more human. It was so genuine, so warm and kind, like he’d seen so much, lived through more than she could imagine. He laughed like he was in love with life itself. Warmth crept through her as they laughed together as he held her fast in the surf. The waves rushed in, the water cold against her legs. But she hardly paid it any mind. How strangely freeing this all was. Her creature leaned in and took her hands and placed them over his heart and Natasha paused, her fingers dipping into the hollow of his throat. As the waves rushed out, he repeated the sound again, an easy smile on his face. Natasha felt the steady thrum of his heart beneath her palm and she met his gaze in wonderment. He seemed so strangely shy as he looked at her and it occurred to her that he was trying to answer her.

He was trying to tell her his name.

Natasha sobered a little and tried more seriously to repeat what he said, but her vocal chords weren’t capable of producing such a sound. It came out sounding a bit like “Steve” and he laughed again, his eyes sparkling with humour, with affection. Natasha flushed and pulled her hands away to smooth her hair from her face. From down the beach her name drifted over the crashing waves. It sounded much closer; she would be discovered soon. Her tutor sounded irritated, worried and her heart sank. The boldness left her in a sudden rush as reality set in and she was left hollow again. She sagged a little in his grip and Steve— her creature, slowly uncoiled his tail from around her waist, a concerned expression on his face. Natasha wished she could stay a while longer, but she didn’t belong in this strange world with him. She didn’t have the right to want that.

Natasha shot him a fleeting glance and slipped from his grasp. He seemed sorry to see her go and reached for her, gently taking her by the wrist. She didn’t know what to say to him that would make him understand her.

“Sorry,” she said softly as she met his gaze, “but… I have to go. I must. They’ll be looking for me and I can’t say what they would think of you if they saw you, pretty thing that you are.”

He frowned, clearly not understanding her words.

“Pretty thing… that you are,” he repeated, giving her wrist a gentle squeeze.

Natasha laughed again and stood and he let her go, his tail swishing and stirring in the water as he watched her. She was euphoric, a wide grin on her face and he smiled at her in kind. Her name sounded again and Natasha turned to see her tutor in the distance, irritably picking her way down the beach toward her. She could see how cross she was from here and hiked up her soaked, sandy skirts to meet her.

“Goodbye,” she said, looking back at her creature a final time.

But he was silent as he watched her go, his smile fading. Natasha heard the crash of the waves roll in and he disappeared with them, returning to the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of the works comes from a poem called "House by the Sea" by Lorand Gaspar and the chapter title is a Stan Rogers song called The Maid on the Shore. Inspiration for the fic itself comes from Cameron Stalheim's Merman sculpture (it's beautiful). 
> 
> This one will be much shorter! But hopefully the tone is much more uplifting and magical. 
> 
> Stay safe and healthy out there!


	2. To Have and to Hold

Natasha fled the party in tears. Dressed in her finery, she let her feet take her wherever they thought to. She made her way from the ball and through the town, silently passing the buildings she was once so familiar with. She didn’t know where she was going— it hardly mattered anymore. She was talked about in the basest terms; her beauty, her age, her inheritance and now she was to be wed, tied to a man, a stranger, who thought of her as only those things. A possession, a prize to be won. Everyone knew what sort man Baron Zemo was. He was from a long line of nobility, but recent speculation ventures proved unsuccessful and his estate was losing money. She was far beneath him socially and, imprudent a match as they would be, she would bring with her the much needed wealth to save his estate and he would provide the title and land that her parents so desperately wanted. 

But Natasha saw what sort of man Baron Zemo truly was. She remembered his first wife, Hilda. She was the jewel of high society, a lively, and beautiful woman. She remembered the way she had danced so gracefully, laughed so kindly, and smiled like she had a secret joke that only she was a part of. Natasha greatly admired Hilda, she was kind to her as she transitioned from shopkeeper’s daughter to the gentry. But Natasha noticed the way she became withdrawn after her marriage to the Baron. It was subtle at first, the way she would flinch when others touched her, the way her lively eyes and secretive smile became broken, half-hearted. Soon she hardly spoke to anyone at all and seemed to do her best to blend with the wallpaper at parties. When she and her husband left social gatherings, she would stiffen when the Baron grasped her by the arm to whisper something in her ear, her gaze falling to the floor. 

She never laughed again.

When his first wife fell pregnant, she disappeared altogether from society. She died in childbirth some months later. Natasha didn’t want to be in the hands of such a man. If he broke the spirit of his first wife, what sort of fate was in store for her? The Baron was a shrewd, taciturn man and it was well known that he desperately wanted a son to carry on his family name. Natasha was positive her father had promised she could provide that for him and with her marriage, her family’s ascension would be complete— no one one dare say they were social climbing charlatans when she was a baroness. 

But it wasn’t what she wanted. His family’s estate was abroad and he seemed eager to marry and return to his affairs back home. She didn’t want a loveless marriage to a man intent on taking her away and reducing her to a mere object. But what choice did she have? When she told her father of her concerns, begged her mother to reconsider, they scowled at her. She was being overdramatic, she wasn’t seeing the full picture, or doing what was best for herself and her family. She was selfish, unfeeling, _ungrateful_. Their words battered and beat her into silence until tears welled in her eyes and her heart was heavy in her chest. Her father cut through the silence with an exasperated reminder. She wasn’t required to speak her mind, this matter was decided, the date was already set, and she owed them for the humiliation she put them all through the day of the shipwrecks.

When her heels sank into the sand, Natasha stopped. She was at the beach, hesitating just at its edge. The ocean breeze was harsh on her face and stirred the carefully styled curls from her forehead. If she stepped back, she could forget this whole, ridiculous notion. She could submit and do her duty to her family, to herself, just as she was taught. No one wanted to care for a spinster, and her prospects would be grim if she ran away. But she wanted so dearly to marry for love. That was not her place, she had discovered, nor was it her choice. Her fate was sealed at that party tonight between her father and the Baron and she had only been informed of the match. Natasha watched the shoreline, willing herself to leave. It would serve no purpose, pining away like this. But her heart pulled her closer to the water one step at a time. 

She had never felt as free as that day when the ships wrecked on the shore and she rushed headlong to search with the rest of the town. That had been a grave misstep. Ladies, _real_ ladies, didn’t do that sort of thing. It was all anyone could talk about— how wild she looked, how shaken, but they would never know how much she felt, how free she was. That was also the day that she had seen him, her creature, her Steve. But Natasha had never returned to the beach— she never had a chance to, not after she was found soaking wet and shivering, eyes bright and a wild smile on her face as she headed into town with her tutor. The things they said about her after that… madwoman, wild, improper. Her parents were livid; all the money and time spent refining her and shaping her into an elegant woman was wasted. Nobody wanted a lady who couldn’t act the part and her suitors dried up as she became the subject of gossip for the entire town, high class or not. Soon after she was sent away to a stricter finishing school to be under private tutelage and constant guidance. Her parents hoped that time and distance would repair her reputation among her peers. But The Red Room finishing school used much more punitive measures and Natasha returned three years later a broken woman. On the surface she was graceful and practiced in her arts— a truly accomplished lady. She sang and played her instruments on command at parties, danced and conversed and played her part just like she was taught. But her refinement came with a terrible cost. She rarely smiled or laughed anymore, rarely spoke her mind or expressed herself. Nobody cared what she wanted and so she became withdrawn, quiet. Worst of all, everyone congratulated her for it. So accomplished, so elegant, so refined they would say— just what a young lady ought to be. Her parents were elated that she had finally learned her place at last. 

Despite her resignation to her new status, Natasha was deeply unhappy and her upcoming marriage pulled out a terror in her unlike anything she had felt before. Perhaps a part of her still clung to the notion that they’d all go back to normal, that her father would lose their fortune, that her mother would spend them into debt, but her marriage to the Baron would cement her fate. There would be no escaping after it took place, she would be a baroness, a perfect model of feminine refinement. It was terror that pulled her closer to the water at the notion. There was no escape. This would be her life until the day she died. 

The tide rushed in and soaked her feet and the hem of her skirt and she turned her gaze to the water foaming around her feet. The sun sank low on the horizon, setting the sky aglow in a spectacular blaze of orange. Her eyes welled with tears, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. She thought that The Red Room mistresses had stamped out her foolish desires, but they all came rushing back as she stood on the shore again. Secretly she thought of the freedom she had tasted every day for the past three years, sealing it away deep inside her heart so that no one may touch it. As time passed, her hope faded and she began to think he had never been real in the first place. But here she was, standing in the sand, watching the horizon for something she knew she could not have. 

They might notice she was missing by now. Their prize had disappeared. She imagined how red her father would turn, how her mother would wring her hands and watch the floor in bitter silence. What more could they take from her? She watched the sun all but disappear into the sea, her hope fading with the light. The tears spilled over onto her cheeks and the wind whipped them, cold and unfriendly against her skin. 

She could not explain why she was here, crying to the ocean. Perhaps she hoped that she may see her creature again. But why should he be here? It wasn’t as though her sorrow would make him materialize. He had likely forgotten her after that day, she was a curiosity and nothing more. Even if he had come back at first, her years of absence surely taught him that she didn’t care for him. Her heart broke at the thought of his sweet smile, his reverent gaze. But she was a weak, cowardly woman, powerless to resist her fate. She would not blame him for leaving this place after she had never returned. Natasha wiped her tears, her hands pausing on her cheeks as she watched the sun burn low on the horizon, casting a fiery glow across the sky. She sniffled and collected herself a little, giving her shoulders a shake. The wind whipped her hair, stirring the flyaways and ruining her careful updo. How wild she must look again, but she didn’t feel wild this time. 

She was a caged bird. 

With one last, longing glance at the horizon, Natasha turned to leave. 

Her heels sank into the sand, her skirts soiled and wet. She could learn to live with this just as she had learned to live with all the other changes in her life. Despite what everyone had tried so hard to teach her, she still hadn’t learned her lesson. Her life was not her own. Perhaps that would be easier to accept if she would only stop fighting and resisting the inevitable. She might learn, in time, to find a kind of peace if she just gave up this foolish hope. But as Natasha began to leave, she heard something that made her heart stop. 

It was quiet, easily mistaken for the rush of waves on the sand, or the wind off of the ocean, but she froze when she heard it, curling around her like a warm embrace. _Na-tashh-ahh._

It wasn’t fair. 

Natasha sank to her knees in the wet sand, tears slipping down her cheeks. She refused to look, to see if it was real. But his touch on the small of her back made her shiver, his tail circled around her where she knelt, reflecting blue and green and purple in the light of the setting sun. It was as beautiful as she remembered and she sobbed a little disbelieving laugh. When she turned he was there, his blue eyes searching, a small, easy smile on his face. His expression told her he was glad to see her. But she was numb, her heart pounding in her ears. Lit in the fiery red of the dying light, his skin shimmered, the scales on his shoulders and cheeks catching the light. 

He reached up as he had all those years ago and touched the careful ringlets of her hair with curious interest, as if wondering how she made her hair do this. It seemed impossible that he was here. After all these years, he was back. Had he searched all this time? Had he come back every day for these past three years in the belief that he might see her again? Natasha’s heart beat loudly in her chest at the notion. She did not know how else he would be here now. He had more faith in her than she had in herself and she stared at him blankly, a feeling awakening in her that she thought she had buried. It hurt to feel this way again. Natasha wept as he watched her, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. It was too painful to consider that she had fallen in love with him. But she knew she had. She had ignored the notion for all these years because she knew it could never be, but she dreamt of him, when she was alone she could still feel his touch on her skin, and heard his laughter echoing in her mind. She wanted to believe that she was drawn to the freedom she felt the day the ships wrecked, but it was him. She missed the feel of him, his gentle smile, the freedom she felt when she was with him. After that day, she didn’t want to give the notion any space to grow, but seeing him now brought it all rushing back. He had captured her heart so completely.

His blue eyes sparkled intelligently, as if trying to puzzle her out. But there wasn’t much to know about her. She was plain and boring and burdened with troubles he wouldn’t begin to understand. He tilted his head and traced the tears down her cheek. Natasha trembled, feeling so desperately empty. She bowed her head, nearly resting it on his scaled shoulder. 

“I’m glad to see you,” she whispered, her warm breath pooling against his collarbone. 

She could feel him turn to look at her, his lips close to her ear. It felt like a dream to see him again. 

“I’m… glad to see you,” he repeated, his voice low and deep. 

Natasha smiled sadly and took his hand, turning it over to inspect his palm. She looked into his eyes— he was unbearably close, his nose nearly touching hers and was gripped by that sense of freedom once more. It rose in her like a dying ember stoked to flame. She didn’t know what possessed her, but she reached up and traced the scales on his face, her thumb sweeping across the skin of his cheek as he had once done to her. He felt just as she remembered and his brow furrowed as he watched her. He breathed her name again like a question. He seemed to ask her what was wrong. 

But she didn’t answer him, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. She’d never kissed anyone before, but she didn’t want her first kiss to be with a man who looked at her like a possession. She wanted it to be with a man who looked at her the way her creature had, the way he still did— kindly, warmly, lovingly. Let this was her last act of rebellion, to give herself to her creature rather than her husband-to-be. He made a surprised little noise as she kissed him, his body tensing. His lips were soft, warm against hers and he tasted like the sea. Natasha smiled and pulled away, but was surprised when he followed, his lips gently touching hers again as he leaned into her touch. Natasha’s heart raced, fluttering in her chest like a bird in a cage. His tail came up to coil around her waist once more and he pulled her closer, his arms coming up to hold her, hands twining through her hair as he kissed her back. Natasha gasped a little breath and skimmed down his ribs, feeling the skin of his hips where it became his tail. She touched him as freely as she liked, kissed him as deeply as she wanted. This was the freedom she wanted. This was what she had longed for. The choice to love how she wanted, with whom she wanted. He sighed against her mouth, kissing her so tenderly as he held her so deliciously tight. 

It pained her that she’d never feel this way again, never be held in such a manner, never taste freedom and wildness and passion like she did in this moment. Maybe it was enough to have felt it just this once than never at all. She pulled away, breathless, but she didn’t let him go. The sun had set and the light was fading fast, casting long shadows where they embraced in the sand. She looked deeply into his beautiful, blue eyes and saw such a quiet reverence, a deep admiration that she wanted to capture it. To keep it deep in her heart like a treasure. Instead she kissed his cheek, lips touching his smooth, scaled skin. He held her like she was precious, a gift. She could feel the gentle flutter of his lashes against her neck as he leaned in to plant a kiss on her collarbone. Natasha just held him tightly until the light disappeared into the sea and darkness began to set in. She watched the light fade in her creature’s embrace and when the stars twinkled in the twilight overhead, she reluctantly planted a gentle kiss on his shoulder before moving away. His brow furrowed as he released her from his grasp. 

“Goodbye,” she told him. 

He frowned, seeming to recognize that word. But Natasha gave him her brightest smile and smoothed his hair from his face. He wouldn’t understand her, but she told him anyway. 

“I am to be wed,” she said. “I’ll be taken far away from this place. Please don’t look for me here anymore. I hope that you understand that, at least. I will not be here.” 

She paused and traced the skin of his tail where it coiled around her. Hesitantly, his grip on her loosened and she pulled away. His eyes glimmered in the low lighting as he watched her. 

“Please understand me, dear one,” she whispered, as she placed a hand gently on his tail. “I’ll never see you again.” 

It broke her heart to say it, but it was the truth. She said for herself as much as him and she hoped he might repeat it back to her. It would give her closure if he did. But he was silent, his gaze serious. 

Natasha stood and tried to fix her hair a little, and brushed the sand from her gown. She couldn't bring herself to look back at him as she turned away, but her heart thrummed wildly in her chest. Yes, it was better to have felt it once. Just once. 

His voice curled behind her like the crest of a wave, relentless and determined. _Na-tashh-ahh,_ he said. She stopped, unsure of what she hoped for, but wishing more than anything that he’d say those words back to her. She wanted this moment to close like a chapter in a book. 

“I’ll see you again.”

She whirled to face him, but he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow an update! 
> 
> Poor Natasha's heart gets wrecked like those ships in chapter one lol. 
> 
> Check out my twitter for updates/artwork/polls (@YeetaNo)


	3. I am the Master of my Fate

Natasha returned to the ball that night in a sorry state. Her hair was mussed and wet from her creature’s touch and her gown was sandy and damp. She was shivering and wild just as she was the day the ships had wrecked all those years ago. Her parents found her after discreetly sending the coachman out to search for her and when she was recovered on her way back to town, she was quickly wrapped in a shawl and ushered into a waiting carriage before anyone could see her in such a disgraceful condition. Her father was livid, her mother bright with concern. They both lit into her on the ride back home, shouting their complaints in turn. What was she thinking? What if the Baron had seen her like this? She could have ruined everything. But Natasha hardly listened. Her heart was in her throat and she could barely focus on a single thing her parents said. She felt like she was in a dream and it finally registered that she had seen her creature again, that she had kissed him. The way he had looked at her was fresh in her mind, he was shimmering, beautiful. She could still feel his lips on hers, still taste him on the tip of her tongue. But he could not have meant what he said. She must have misheard him, or he had misunderstood her. Natasha’s heart pounded wildly as a terrible sense of hope began to set in. 

_I’ll see you again_ , he had promised. 

The thought spurred this wild feeling in her. All the teachings and lessons and ideas of propriety threatened to unravel as if they had never bound her at all. Natasha smiled at the strange notion. Her father did not take kindly to that and the sharp slap across her face snapped her back to reality. Her head whipped to the side and her cheek tingled and throbbed. Her mother cried out in shock and the carriage fell into tense silence. Tears welled in Natasha’s eyes as she gazed through the sheer curtains covering the windows at the darkness outside. She was vaguely aware that her father was speaking again, that her mother wept. The carriage bounced and rocked as Natasha tried to suppress this terrible ache inside her, but the wildness she felt would not die. It swallowed her whole and her hands curled into fists in her lap as she turned her burning, resentful gaze on her father. He faltered a little, uncomfortable under her sudden scrutiny and fell into silence once more. Gratefully, the carriage had come to a stop and the coachman opened the door for them. Nobody moved or stepped out and for a moment, Natasha wished she could stay frozen here. If she got out of this carriage, she knew that she would not be leaving the house until her wedding date. If she stepped out of that door, she knew, despite her creature’s promise, that she would not see him again. 

Her father got out first, unable to look at her. Natasha stared straight ahead, her face throbbing with the beat of her heart. She felt as though she awaited her execution and perhaps in a way, she did. If she went through with this, if she never saw her creature again, her heart would surely die. Her mother’s cool touch on her stinging cheek drew her gaze to her and she was surprised to see her eyes shone with tears. In this moment, Natasha hoped more than anything her mother could see her, understand her. She hoped her mother could see what this wealth and social climbing had done to them all. She hoped that she could see how unhappy it made her. But her mother just smiled softly, apologetically. 

“Let’s go inside darling,” she said quietly, her thumb tracing over Natasha’s burning cheek. 

Natasha recognized that expression better than anything. She herself wore it every day, it was one of pained desperation, of self-soothing appeasement. It was the look Natasha hid behind at balls and luncheons and games of wist. It was the look she perfected in her attempt to assure everyone that she was fine, that everything was all right, that she was happy. But seeing it now on her mother’s face made her realize that her mother, for all her faults and failings and vices and vanities, was just as trapped as she was. They were all living in their own private little traps, even her father. And Natasha found she could not hate them for it. She wanted to, but she could not. They were, the lot of them, cheap and pitiable and she found she could only feel sorry for them. Had her parents ever known a fraction of happiness in their lives? Or had it been so long chasing this meaningless dream they had forgotten what it felt like to be a family, to care for and cherish the things that made them truly happy? Did they really know her at all? 

Her mother’s sad smile told her that they had lost themselves in this pursuit of status and wealth and the realization broke her heart. When her mother took her hand and guided her from the carriage, she didn’t resist.

* * *

On the day of her wedding, Natasha sat while her mother and ladies maids fussed with her hair. She was dressed in her beautiful, custom wedding gown already. It was the latest fashion and while she admitted it was beautiful, it was not at all what she wanted. It weighed her down in layers of fabric and beading. As the ladies maids put the finishing touches of pearl hairpins in her hair, her mother fastened a silver necklace around her neck. Her mother beamed at her reflection in the looking glass and gently placed her hands on Natasha’s shoulders and she found herself stiffening under her touch as she had learned to do under the tutelage of the Iron Maiden. 

“You look absolutely beautiful Natasha,” she remarked. 

Natasha met her reflection’s gaze and smiled gracefully, just as she was taught. But it was empty and she steadied herself and prepared for her fate, unable to disguise the anger and resentment she felt. In the days leading up to her wedding, Natasha had made a secret vow. She could no longer hide her heart and promised herself that she would not let this break her anymore. Even if she was married to the Baron and resigned to life by his side, she would never again let anyone change her, or try to suppress her heart. She would not become her mother, or father, or a shell of her former self. She would face whatever life brought her with dignity and with hope. Even if she could not change her fate, she would not let anyone change her anymore. Silently, Natasha stood and followed her mother to the waiting carriage and soon they were off to her wedding. The familiar scent of the sea calmed her and she gazed out the window at the tall ship docked in the harbour. Baron Zemo had insisted on marrying on his ship as it was technically part of his estate, bore his family’s crest, and he felt would bind her to his family more completely. The Baron was also impatient to get back home after being gone for so long and they would depart as soon as the ceremony was completed. When she heard of the Baron’s plan, she didn’t object and even encouraged it. Her parents were surprised that she pushed so hard to be wed aboard his ship and took it as her finally coming around to the idea of marriage. But Natasha wasn’t keen to wed the man. She wanted to be by the sea once more. It filled her with a strength and a faint glimmer of hope that she feverishly fed into. She could be strong. 

She boarded the vessel and before she really knew it, her father was giving her away as the Baron’s crew stood at attention by their posts. Her father and mother and the important ladies watched from behind her. She took the Baron’s hand and the ceremony began. But Natasha was out of sorts, her heart fluttering nervously in her chest. Her husband-to-be was dressed in his finest, his hair carefully swept back. At first glance, he was a handsome man, but Natasha could only see the arrogant, conceited coldness in his eyes. He did not smile at her as he took her hands. Natasha’s gaze roamed the shore behind him as she remembered everything she had experienced there. It felt silly to hope, to believe her creature’s words now when it was nearly too late. But she could not stop herself and she had promised herself that she no longer would. Baron Zemo eyed her with an air of disdain and squeezed her hand painfully to draw her from her thoughts. His gaze was cold and impassive and she met his eyes with what she hoped was dignity. Even if this was her fate, she was resolved to never submit willingly to this man. She was beaten down and bent and moulded into something she wasn’t and had no desire to be, but he’d have to break her before she ever became as pitiable as her parents, as broken as his first wife. 

The Baron appeared to not like the look in her eyes and returned his irritated gaze to the officiant who droned through the marriage homily with a sense of subdued resignation. Behind her, her mother sniffled and Natasha imagined she beamed at the two of them standing hand in hand in this farce. As the officiant came to the all-important question she found herself unable to speak. _Do you take this man?_ She heard him ask as if underwater. But she could not reply. She felt the Baron’s grip on her tighten and she met his gaze with a fiery intensity. The word was in her mouth, on the tip of her tongue she needed only to make it a reality.

_No._

But the ceremony and her answer were cut short by a sharp cry from one of the crewmen. Natasha startled and turned to see the crew scramble and turn in alarm. Another crewman leaned over the rail and was suddenly pulled overboard to fall into the depths below. The ship erupted in chaos as men scrambled and leaned over the side to help. The Baron left her with a frown, his hand on his sword and strode over to see what the commotion was. Another man was suddenly pulled over the rail with a cry of terror as he fell and hit the water below. Below the men screamed and thrashed in the water, shouting about a monster. The men on the deck scrambled and shouted when they sighted something in the water and Natasha ran to the rail in time to see a black, shimmering tail disappear beneath the waves with a loud splash. Muskets were called for as ropes were lowered to the terrified men thrashing in the water.

Natasha laughed and dropped her shawl on the deck, heading to the bow of the ship. Nobody paid her any mind in all the commotion. As she climbed the stairs to the helm, she turned around to see her creature, shimmering and bright, climb the anchor chain on the opposite side of the commotion to coil his tail around the feet of a crewman carrying muskets and pull them out from under him. He fell to the deck with a cry and her creature dove backward into the water, dragging the screaming man across the deck, under the rail and over the side of the ship. She could hardly keep herself from laughing and left the decks below. She could faintly hear her mother and father call for her, her name drifting over the chaos. They sounded scared. For the first time in a long time, they sounded concerned for her, scared for their daughter. But she couldn’t look back at them. What they wanted for her, she could no longer abide. Even if it meant going into the unknown, even if it meant starting over anew, she couldn’t stay here anymore. She wanted to be free of this. Natasha hiked up her skirts and swung her leg over the rail to search the waters below. Her feet teetered over the edge and she slipped her shoes off to watch them drop into the dark blue depths. It seemed so very high up, and her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She was afraid, more than anything she was afraid, but beneath the fear the feeling of wildness rose in her and she exhaled shakily. It’s what she had always been— madwoman, wild, improper. Nobody could tame that out of her, not even her. And now she no longer wished to. Everything she wanted was out there and as much as they tried to strip her courage from her, they could not and now they never would. With a smile, Natasha let go of the rail and jumped from the ship. 

The water rushed up to meet her and she plunged into its murky depths. She was not prepared for how cold it would be. The heavy weight of her dress pulled her under and for a moment she was terrified. But the familiar comfort of her creature’s tail coiling around her waist made her open her eyes. Her skirts billowed weightless around her and she looked into his vibrant, shimmering eyes with a shy smile. The sunlight filtered through the water above and she was struck by how beautiful he was. She laughed when he leaned in and kissed her, her breath escaping as a burst of bubbles as he brought them to the surface and held her up above the waves to kiss her against the bow of the ship where they were hidden under the figurehead. Natasha smiled and pulled away, breathless, to circle her arms around his neck. 

“Hello my darling,” she whispered, a wide smile on her face. 

Her creature beamed and touched his forehead to hers. 

“Natasha,” he said, his breath warm against her lips, “pretty… dear Natasha. I’m glad… to see you.” 

It didn’t matter that his words were a combination of things she had said to him before, she flushed deeply when he spoke and he swept her wet, ruined hair from her face. He looked at her like she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen and she could not help but smile. 

The commotion continued on the decks above as the men were pulled to safety and they discovered that she was now missing. Her mother cried out in alarm, her father demanding that they begin to search at once. The alarm was raised and parties began to look for her. Everyone thought the sea monster had taken her, dragged her into the sea to meet her death. They were half right, anyway. 

Natasha reached behind her to fumble with the lacing of her dress and her creature looked confusedly at her for a moment before he applied his clever fingers to the task and began to help loosen her dress. He seemed shocked that it came off, and kept looking at her as if he was worried he was hurting her by removing a part of her body. But Natasha laughed and dropped down into the water to slip out of the heavy fabric before resurfacing in her corset, chemise and stockings. He was amazed and she leaned into him with a tender smile. He cocked his head and looked at her expectantly and Natasha said aloud for the first time what she wanted more than anything. 

“Take me away from this place,” she said softly.

He gave her his familiar, easy grin and did as she asked.

* * *

When the strange red-haired woman arrived the day after a great storm, she was the talk of the town. Nobody knew who she was or where she came from. She spoke with all the airs and graces of a gentlewoman, a woman of high class and stature. But she was strange. She had a wildness about her that set folk on edge and a laugh that was bold and loud and enchanting. She paid for a lonely cottage overlooking the sea with Spanish gold, English rubies, Abyssinian ivory. As far as anyone could tell, she kept mostly to herself and didn’t take on any ladies maids or footmen or cooks for her home, apparently content to do the work herself. She dressed plainly, though the fishermen swore she moved like a woman of refinement, that she sang like a siren when she roamed the shoreline. That was the only sure thing about her it seemed— that she could be found at the shoreline. Some folk said she was a widow, that her husband was in the navy and died at sea, others said she was a witch, a spy, an heiress disinherited but these were all rumours and nothing more. She always seemed to be searching for something and disappeared for hours at a time to be alone by the shore. But months passed and the strange woman became a fixture in the town, something of a local legend. Within a year, people only mentioned her in passing. Within the next, some of them even mustered the courage to speak with her, only to find she was kind and charming and warm. She seemed happy despite her loneliness and it was no longer strange to see her walk, as she always had every day for the past two years, through the village and down to the water…

It was hard setting up her new life at first. Steve— he seemed taken with the name she had mistakenly given him— could not follow her onto land to help her, though he had sunken treasures enough for her to make herself comfortable. Natasha visited the sea often to see her Steve. She told him of the house she set up, of the people she was meeting, of how happy she was. Every conversation added to his growing understanding of her language and by the end of the first year, he knew enough to converse. By the second, he spoke to her in a steady, lilting rhythm. Natasha was content to finally have a life of her own, to choose how she spent her days, to speak with whom she liked, and to see Steve every day. But she wished she could have him with her always. In her mind, he was her husband, though they could never make it official. Who would marry her to a strange sea creature that could not live with her on land? But she wanted no other man but him and if that meant she would spend every day on the shore until she ended an old maid, then that was what she would do. This was more than enough. It was more than she could have ever dreamed of. 

She went to the shore as she always had, walking down the beach and around the bend. Nobody had ever bothered them here and she was grateful for the exercise. Natasha adjusted the shawl around her shoulders to combat the bitter wind. Steve had acted strangely the other day— saying that he would be away for a short time. She could not fathom why, though she understood very little about his life beneath the waves. He spoke of it with such reverence, such passion, but she could hardly picture it. He said his pod traveled and rarely stayed in the same place and part of her worried that he missed that life. He had left it behind to stay with her and she could imagine how lonely he must be without them. It was the same for her when he wasn’t here. There were only so many hours in a day that they could spend in each other’s company and the rest of the time they were alone. He had been gone for three days now and Natasha missed him terribly. While she was slowly making companions in town, she was still lonely. 

  
  


She watched her feet sink into the sand with each step as she approached their meeting place. When she looked up, her heart pounded as wildly as it did the first time she had seen him and she picked up her skirts and ran. Steve knelt in the surf, his brow furrowed in concentration. He had finally returned from his time away and Natasha was elated to see him. Something seemed strange about him that Natasha couldn’t quite place, and as she approached he looked up, a wide smile splitting his face. Natasha smoothed her hair from her face and gripped her shawl tightly as she stood by the water’s edge, waiting for him to come to her as he always did. But Steve didn’t swim to her as he always did, instead he pushed himself up to stand on shaky legs, the water rushing around his waist. A disbelieving laugh burst from Natasha and she rushed out to meet him, ignoring the freezing ocean water. How was this possible? Steve took a few faltering steps forward before he stumbled and Natasha caught him as they both fell back into the wet sand. 

She laughed as the water rushed up around them and Steve grinned on top of her. He reached down and smoothed the wet hair from her forehead and Natasha smiled up at him and held him tightly. 

“You make this seem so easy,” he said softly as he helped her sit up and sat back to examine his toes in the sand.

Natasha snapped out of her surprise and turned about three shades of red when she finally noticed he was stark naked. A girlish laugh bubbled from her and she wrapped her shawl around his waist to cover him. He grinned at her reaction, perhaps not quite understanding her embarrassment and Natasha rested her hand on his knee in amazement before she met his gaze. He beamed at her, and Natasha suddenly saw what was off about him before. He was no longer scaled or iridescent. The black shimmering scales on his face and shoulders became freckles and beauty marks and the gills on his neck were now faint little scars. But for all of these strange changes, his eyes were still the same, unnatural vibrant blue. He had become like her, she could not think how, but he was human. She did not know how to react and a strange little sob broke from her as she tried to comprehend this. Steve chuckled a little at her wonder and she traced the freckles on his shoulders and the lines on his neck just as she had the day they first met. 

“You fool,” she said, framing his face with her hands. “What are you doing?”

“I wanted to…” he frowned, searching for the word. “Surprise you.” 

Natasha laughed. Surprise her indeed! She smoothed her thumbs across the freckles on his temples and cheekbones with a sense of awe. It felt too surreal, too much like a wonderful dream. But this _was_ real and it began to settle over her that he could stay. He could be with her. She was filled with such a rising sense of warmth and adoration and she leaned in and peppered kisses his cheeks, his nose, his forehead and lips as he chuckled and held her close. Natasha buried her head against his chest and they sat like that for a while as the waves lapped at their feet. 

“Did it hurt?” She said, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

She felt him bundle her closer, his arms wrapped tightly around her. “A little,” he admitted. 

He interlaced his fingers with hers, examining the way they bridged together now that the webbing between his fingers was gone. Natasha planted a kiss on his jawline and he smiled, still watching their entwined hands. 

“Is it permanent?” 

He squeezed her hand gently. “Permanent?” He asked, unfamiliar with the word. 

She swept the hair from his face and he returned his gaze to her, blue eyes glimmering affectionately. 

“Are you like this forever?”

He flexed his feet, spreading his toes to look at them thoughtfully. He nodded. Natasha’s smile faded, her heart beating fast in her chest. He had done this for her? She never would’ve dared hope that she could be with him like this. It was such a dream to be free at last, to visit her creature even if he was in the water and she on land, but to think that he had done this to stay with her… Natasha planted a gentle kiss on the marks on his neck and Steve bowed his head, his breath warm on her ear. He had given up everything to be with her. 

“You didn’t have to do this for me,” she whispered. 

Steve shifted and pulled back to look at her. He seemed frustrated, like he wanted to get the words out all at once and make her understand what he felt instead of labouring and struggling for the right things to say. But he took a moment to collect himself before he spoke in his slow, measured speech. 

“I will miss them, but never as much as I miss you when you are up here and I am down there. I can’t stand leaving you. When I’m down there with them, you are all I can think about. I have wanted none but you, Natasha.” 

She saw how serious he was and felt her cheeks colour. It still amazed her that he had this effect on her. She blushed as easily now as she had the first time he had touched her. Steve smoothed her hair from her forehead with a look of gentle adoration.

“I want to stay. I want to be with you. If that’s what you want, too.” 

All she ever wanted was the freedom to choose. And she did. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his, savouring the way his lips felt on hers. She was his and he was hers from the first moment they met on the shore all those years ago. She slid her hand through his hair and down the nape of his neck as she deepened the kiss. He made a muffled little laugh as his hands came up to cradle her jaw, his thumb tracing down her throat as he kissed her back. He kissed her with such devoted intensity that made her stomach flutter and fall away. She pulled away a little and he chased her, reluctant to stop as he kissed her again. But she wanted to give her answer and she smiled and broke away. His lips hovered just shy of hers and she chuckled and smoothed her thumb over his cheek. She wanted to say it aloud, a secret between him and her and the waves on the sand. 

“With all my heart,” she said, “I want you more than anything my darling.” 

She was delighted to hear his pleased laugh, to see the way his cheeks flushed with colour at her declaration. She sealed it with a brief, chaste kiss before standing and offering him her hand. 

Steve watched her for a moment before he took it and she helped him to stand. Natasha took his arm as a lady would a gentleman. She imagined they were a proper couple, though he was dressed in her shawl and nothing else. He watched his feet as he walked, leaning against her to steady himself. She was filled with such joy that she could not help herself, she spoke what she felt. 

“I love you,” she said. 

Steve cocked his head to the side and looked at her, a faint smile on his lips. “I don’t think I know that word yet,” he said his hand twining with hers. 

Natasha smiled up at him, her heart full. “I’ll teach you,” she promised. 

He smiled at that and leaned down to steal a brief kiss as they made the walk home along the shore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy! Another fic squared away (a little early for mermay, but here we be). Hope you enjoyed it :) 
> 
> Follow me on twitter (@YeetaNo). Followers voted on my next short fic and it will either be a soulmate or Norse AU. I'll keep posting stuff with all this extra time I have in self-isolation. Stay healthy and safe everyone!


End file.
